Widespread Panic
by Quallianmaghouin
Summary: 5 Times Someone Unexpected Helped Kurt With A Panic Attack, and One Time He Helped Someone Unexpected With The Same Thing.  Set in the 'Breathe' panic!Kurt universe
1. Will Schuester

Title: Widespread Panic

Author: Qualli

Rating: T (PG-13)

Character(s)/Pairing(s):Kurt Hummel, ensemble (Puck/Kurt established relationship)

Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort

Warning: Swearing, Panic attacks and possible triggers

Spoilers: Set after 'Preggers' and 'The Power of Madonna' re: Kurt's new sports.

Disclaimer: Not mine

Author Note: Set in the "Breathe" universe, and taking place after "Just Breathe". (What you need to know: Kurt has Generalized Panic Disorder, and a prank by Vocal Adrenaline has made it worse. Puck is Kurt's "Safe Person" (Someone who knows how to deal with panic attacks and spot the signs)

Summary: 5 Times Someone Unexpected Helped Kurt With A Panic Attack, and One Time He Helped Someone Unexpected With The Same Thing.

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Part 1. Will Schuester

Will Schuester kind of hated his kids sometimes. Well not hated, just disliked, and only after dealing with them on pop quiz day for 4 hours straight. He really didn't even dislike them. But he was very, very, relieved to finally have a lunch break, where he could hide out in his office and grade those quizzes over a sandwich, kid free.

He threw himself down in his chair with a sigh and rolled it to the desk. His feet connected with something solid and there was a familiar high pitched yelp and a thump as that something tried to scurry further under the desk.

"Kurt?" He asked cautiously, rolling backwards slowly and bending down so he could see whoever was under there.

Kurt stared out at him, wide eyed and curled into an impossibly tiny ball. He had been crying, and still looked a little pale, cradling his hand. A panic attack then. Either coming or going. Hopefully it was going, and accidently kicking the soprano wouldn't start off another round.

"Hi." Kurt said softly and matter of factly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Hi." Will replied, nodding towards Kurt's hand. "You okay? Did I roll over it?"

Kurt shrugged. "Just knocked it. Sorry."

"That's okay. I should have looked first. Do you want some company? I have peanut butter and jelly. Or I could eat lunch in the teacher's lounge if you need to be alone."

Kurt hesitated and Will found himself holding his breath.

"Don't go. But...can I stay under the desk for a while?"

"Sure." Will nodded, rolling farther away. He picked up his coffee cup, pouring half of his soda into it, then carefully sat down, leaning against the filing cabinet. He put the rest of the bottle, half a sandwich and some napkins down, where Kurt could reach it, and started in on his portion. Kurt's hand reached out and snatched the sandwich before retreating back under the desk.

"I don't want to talk about it." Kurt said, wiping at his face with his sleeve, before delicately nibbling the crust of the sandwich.

"You don't have to." Will assured him. "But if you want to talk, sometime, that's okay too." He was new to this panic attack stuff, first with Emma and now Kurt, but he had read all the brochures and picked up a book or two. Puck, of all people, had taken him aside and warned him that Kurt didn't like to talk or have people fuss over him when he was 'freaking' out. Slowly though, Kurt seemed to be changing, wanting people nearby, though he still preferred if they ignored him.

"Thank you." Kurt cut into Will's thoughts. Will glanced up. The kid had polished off the pb&j in record time, and was clutching the soda bottle like a security blanket. He had tucked himself back again, his feet pulled up under him so that he was completely hidden from view if you stood in the doorway.

"No problem." Will smiled, finishing his own sandwich quickly and pulling down the stack of quizzes.

"Can you... I think I need my medicine." Kurt waved a hand towards his satchel, and Will obligingly fetched it for him. A small lipstick case, which apparently doubled as a stash box for contraband, was pulled out, and Kurt swallowed down a pill before returning the case, and tucking the satchel next to him.

"Thanks" Kurt repeated.

Will nodded, going back to his paperwork, staying within sight but not hovering or worrying. He was just...there. Which seemed to help more than anything else.

By the time his lunch and planning periods had gone by, Kurt had fallen asleep, still curled under the desk. An effect of the medication, which meant this had been a pretty bad attack if he needed to take it. He'd make sure Kurt's teachers knew why he was AWOL, they'd all been given the Burt Hummel 'you got a problem with my kid's disability?' speech, and knew that Kurt would occasionally have to miss a class. He was a good kid though, so none of them really worried.

With a groan he hauled himself to his feet, shuffling his papers back into his briefcase. He looked down at Kurt again, then acted on instinct.

"Feel Better" Will said softly, grabbing a serape from the top of the filing cabinet and laying it within reach of his young student, in case he woke up and needed a blanket. He turned off the lights on his way out, and shut the door quietly.

Later, when he came to Glee practice, it was to find Kurt, still looking slightly asleep, tucked between Mercedes and Tina, chatting animatedly about the newest costume designs. He could see the serape folded up neatly on his his desk in the office.

Kurt caught Will's eye, and offered a rare, true, smile. He mouthed a 'Thank You' silently, before being pulled back into the conversation, and Will smiled back.

He kind of loved his kids sometimes.


	2. Matt Rutherford

Summary: 5 Times Someone Unexpected Helped Kurt With A Panic Attack, and One Time He Helped Someone Unexpected With The Same Thing.

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Part 2. Matt Rutherford

Matt Rutherford was sitting on the bench, watching McKinley lose spectacularly once again at football. New year, same old loser team. Not even Kurt's choreography could help them now.

Speaking of Kurt..

He looked around for the kicker, finding him fidgeting at the end of the bench, picking at the collar of his jersey. Kurt glanced up, as if he knew he was being watched, and grimaced. Matt thought maybe that was supposed to have been a smile.

Matt scowled. Kurt's eyes went wide and the smaller boy ducked his head.

..oops. He tried to give Kurt a reassuring look but the smaller boy wouldn't look up again. Kurt knew he wasn't scowling at him right?

He turned his attention back to the game, keeping an eye on Kurt, just in case.

5 minutes later and Kurt was definitely winding himself up for a full fledged panic attack.

Matt stood up, pretending to stretch, then sauntered over to Kurt.

"You all right dude?" he asked quietly.

Kurt shook his head. "Panic Attack. Coming. Where's Puck?"

"Getting tackled." Matt replied, eyeing Kurt.

The kicker blinked at the field. "Oh." Then he seemed to notice the stand full of people. His breath hitched, hand spasmed against his throat where he had been playing with the collar.

Matt frowned.

"People" Kurt explained. "They're going to see my freak out. They're all going to- They'll-" he broke off in a gasp.

"Coach!" he called out, then pointed at Kurt. "We're going to the locker room."

The coach looked at the field, but it was obvious that neither Matt or Kurt would be needed soon. Coach sighed and waved them off. The game was already pretty much lost.

Matt lifted Kurt by the arm and drug him off the field, ducking behind the stands. He waved quickly in the direction of Kurt's dad (Kurt had pointed him out excitedly before the game) to let him know it was okay. They dodged the falling cups and trash underneath the bleachers, and made their way to the locker room.

Once they reached the safety of the empty room, Matt set Kurt down on a bench, and gently shoved him down so that he was hunched over his knees. He wasn't exactly sure what to do, but people did this all the time on tv, and he'd seen Kurt curl up like that a few times.

"Dude. Breathe." he commanded. Kurt was turning purpely around the edges.

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, breath escaping in stutters.

"...You have to breathe in too." Matt added. Because seriously, Kurt didn't look like he remembered that part.

After a few minutes of coaching, Kurt was breathing normally again, shoulders hitching less and less, though he was still pale, and his eyes were watery.

"Sorry. Thanks. I'm fine." Kurt said, all three sentences in a jumbled rush.

Matt knew Kurt's code. "I'm fine" meant "I'm not fine. I'm really not fine, but I'm going to say I am so that you'll go away, because I really don't want people near me right now."

Except of course, when it meant, "I'm fine." but that was usually more slushie or tackle related. "I'm fine" combined with panic attacks never meant "I'm fine."

"Really." Kurt said, straightening up and smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in his uniform. He slowly freed himself of his constraining safety gear, hands trembling a little.

Matt nodded. "I'll head back then."

Which was code for "I'll guard the door with Mike, who's probably noticed we're missing by now and came to hover. We'll make sure Puck gets in first."

He wasn't sure Kurt knew that code, but the smaller boy smiled gratefully, and Matt resisted the urge to ruffle his hair before leaving the locker room.

Puck had pretty much held a meeting when Kurt was late one day, telling them the Kurt Hummel Emergency Plan. ("Come get me or I'll kick your ass." and "make sure he doesn't freak out more." followed by a long list of things that made Kurt freak out.)

So Matt knew enough to keep the loud, rowdy, admittedly smelly, football jocks out of the locker room until Puck was in there to cuddle his boyfriend. Though Matt would never call it that to Puck or Kurt's faces. Between him and Mike they should be able to do that, especially considering half the football team treated Kurt like their little gay mascot. They wouldn't mind waiting.

Later, as the glee jocks mourned another loss over bowling ally pizza, Kurt sticking closer to Puck than normal, Matt figured he must know the Matt code, and had figured out "I'll head back then."

Kurt had "slipped off to the bathroom" before Matt and Mike's food arrived, on the house, the bill already taken care of, enjoy the free meal boys.

Kurt just winked and stole a piece of Puck's pizza. Matt wasn't even surprised when his favorite desert, a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream with cherries on top, appeared later, 'compliments of the chef'

Losing the game wasn't really that big of a deal after all.


	3. Dave Karofsky

Summary: 5 Times Someone Unexpected Helped Kurt With A Panic Attack, and One Time He Helped Someone Unexpected With The Same Thing.

AN: wow, looks like the rating has to go up for this chapter. Someone has a potty mouth, and there's some homophobic language.

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Part 2. Dave Karofksy

Dave Karofksy knew Hummel was off limits. He had a black eye for 3 days, and a permanent small dent in the bridge of his nose (He still couldn't believe Puck had broken his nose) to prove that.

Now that freakazoid had this 'medical condition' they couldn't get away with throwing him in the dumpster of giving him slushie facial. And he didn't really feel like body checking him into lockers anymore. But that didn't mean he had to start being nice. It was fun to rile Kurt up, see how high he could make him shriek with a super cuts comment, or a dig at his clothes. And Puck hadn't punched him recently, so he figured verbal abuse was still okay.

Speaking of which, Hummel was wearing an ugly ass fuzzy white sweater with tight red jeans. He could not let that opportunity pass.

"Hey Fancy!" Dave called out, his voice loud in the empty hallway. Hummel jumped, then turned around.

"What do you want Karofksy?"

"What the hell are you wearing? Did you skin a muppet?"

Hummel's face twitched, and Dave noticed it was red and splotchy. He was clutching his iphone like his life depended on it.

"Clothes." he answered blandly.

"No seriously, this is the gayest shit yet." Dave flicked a sleeve and Kurt pulled back so fast his elbow smashed into a locker. Kurt's eyes narrowed, and he could tell the smaller boy was fighting to stay calm. "It's alexander mcqueen you douche-bag. And it costs more than you'll make in a year at the nacho hut."

Dave was surprised by the language, but the sneer was familiar.

"Who'd you blow to afford that?" he asked. "Got yourself a sugar daddy? Bet it's Sandy. How many times did you have to suck him off for that shirt?"

"Shut the ifuck/i up, Karofksy." Kurt screamed, and Dave backed up slightly. This was...new.

"What the fuck is wrong with you stupid piece of shit?" Kurt was turning red with anger, his whole body shaking and his chest heaving.

"Calm down homo." Dave held up his hands. Okay, maybe he had gone a bit far this time. Sandy was a total creep.

"Don't call me that! You think you can make me miserable just because I'm gay? You think you're better than me? You're an idiot, but I don't throw you in the dumpsters for that. You have acne, you're ugly, and you smell like cat pee. if it wasn't for wine-coolers you'd still be a virgin.-"

Dave scowled at that.

"You shop at Walmart for god's sake! You're a fucking embarrassment to the civilization as a whole, but oh no you're so much better than the poor little faggot, because you don't take it up the ass. You're a stupid fucking moron, and you're going to be stuck in this stupid fucking town for the rest of your stupid fucking life, with your stupid fucking herpes-"

It was kind of funny to see Kurt get angry, though he was pretty sure people weren't supposed to turn that red. Dude was really freaking out.

"Jesus Hom-Hummel, calm down. You're going to have a stroke." He reached out, which was probably a bad idea. a really bad idea.

Kurt's iphone (he had spent the tirade trying to dial a number) was suddenly flying at his head. He ducked, hearing it shatter against the wall.

Suddenly Kurt stopped screaming, all the blood draining from his face. He blinked in shock, as if just realizing what had happened.

"Oh fuck." Kurt whispered, staring past Dave.

"Oh fuck, oh shit, oh fuck." Kurt shoved past him, kneeling down beside his clearly broken phone. He looked up at Dave, helplessly.

"I had to call- I need- oh fuck." He scooped up the pieces of the phone, franticly pressing the screen. "Come on. Come on." he pleaded to the device. "Call Puck. Come on. I need him"

It was a lost cause, but Dave could only watch, with a sort of sick fascination as Kurt tried to piece his phone back together, trembling and gasping for air. He might have still been talking, but not anything Dave could make out.

Well shit.

He fished his phone out of his pocket, thought briefly about handing it to Kurt, but decided that getting near him was probably a bad idea. He dialed Puck's number (still in his address book from their dumpstering days)

"What do you want Karofksy?" Puck growled into the phone.

"Your boyfriend's freaking out in the english hall." Dave said, then explained quickly "I didn't do anything! He was already messed up when I got here."

There was another growl and then the line went dead. He waited, making sure Kurt didn't pass out or slit his wrist on the broken screen or something, until Puck rounded the corner, and then he made a break for it.

He couldn't just leave the guy there. Yeah he made fun of him, and his really stupid clothes. But usually Kurt fought back, bitchy and sarcastic. He actually seemed to enjoy the chance to rake Dave over the coals, though usually not this...scary.

Dave wasn't dumb. He knew he screwed up, and thinking back he could totally tell Kurt was already messed up before he got there. He also knew that Puck was going to break his nose if he stayed around any longer that absolutely necessary.

And later when Azimio had heard about what happened, high fived him, and called Kurt a muppet in his (still stupid looking) sweater, Dave kicked his friend in the leg.

Kurt had just raised a waxed eyebrow while Puck and Artie stepped (rolled) forward threateningly. Kurt smirked, "Don't worry boys, he's just being a..." Kurt slid his eyes to Dave. "douche-bag." His lips quirked up at the corners.

Then the smaller boy breezed past both of them, leaving Azimio blinking in shock, and Dave fighting back a grin.

Hummel was still, mostly, off limits, he guessed.


End file.
